


Three Steps to Defeating Ogata Ryuichi

by tabris



Category: w-inds.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-01
Updated: 2006-11-01
Packaged: 2018-01-06 21:11:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tabris/pseuds/tabris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'd be laughing, if my shirt wasn't holding me hostage."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Steps to Defeating Ogata Ryuichi

**Author's Note:**

> i started this feb 28, 2006 after watching the it's in the stars dvd 547543643246 times while trying to encode the subs for it. _finally_ got around to finishing it a couple of days ago for the monthly competition over at [midnight paradox](http://tcg.unfading-scar.net/).

"Dammit!"

Looking up at the verbal explosion on the other side of the dressing room, Ryohei raised an eyebrow at the struggling Ryuichi, "Having problems?"

"Yes, thank you Mr. Hey-these-suits-look-cool." Ryohei snorted as Ryuichi continued, "While yours is perfectly fine, whatever bright person that made mine seems to have decided that it wasn't necessary to make sure the buttons fit through the buttonholes."

Jacket hanging off one shoulder, tie still loosely looped around his neck, Ryuichi blew a puff of air out of the corner of his mouth making his fringe flutter. He glared down at the offending article of clothing.

"Need some help?" the corner of Ryohei's mouth twitched.

"Not if you're going to stand there looking all innocent when I _know_ you want to laugh. I'd be laughing, if my shirt wasn't holding me hostage," he sighed dramatically and pretended to hang himself with the tie.

Finally giving into what he had been holding in for the past ten minutes, the older boy let himself fall over the arm of the couch he had been sitting on, arms wrapped around his middle. "You-- ahahaha.... Sorry, it's just funny," he gasped between his laughter. "Well, okay, I'm not sorry actually," he paused to try to breathe while still laughing. "I'm sorry I'm not sorry?"

"Ha. Fucking. Ha." Ryuchi stuck his tongue out. "Now come help me."

The strains of 'Philosophy' coming through the wall were the only sounds in the room, other than the two's banter. Shooting had gone well; Ryohei had to admit the pictures had turned out beautifully. People had started drifting out, Keita was likely pestering one of the photographers (Ryohei made a mental note to find whatever stash of sugar he had gotten a hold of because the singer had been close to literally bouncing off the walls for the past week and didn't show any signs of slowing down), which left Ryohei to rescue poor helpless Ryuichi from the supposedly evil shirt.

He stood and padded over to where the other was leaning against the table. "Here, before I have to explain to the stylist why they shouldn't come after you for ripping the thing off."

Ryuichi hopped up to sit on the edge of the table, legs swinging and head tilting side to side to the beat of the music. Stepping between his knees, Ryohei batted away Ryuchi's hands to inspect the shirt.

"This is softer than it looks," he said, fingering the white material covering the buttons, slim digits pulling it back to slip between the folds.

"I kinda like it, actually." Ryuichi swished his hands to make the ruffled cuffs flutter. "Other than the buttons. Evil buttons." Ryohei ducked to avoid getting whapped on the side on the head.

"No abusing your rescuer! I know it's too much to ask you to sit still--"

"Hey!!! I can too sit still!"

"..."

"Really! I can."

Ryohei looked down pointedly at Ryuichi's swinging legs and then back up into a snaggletoothed grin.

"I never said I was _going_ to, just that I could."

The skeptical look on Ryohei's face prickled Ryuichi's pride.

"Fine, lets make it a bet."

He didn't think it was possible for Ryohei's eyebrow to go any further on his forehead but he was wrong. "A bet?"

"Yeah. A bet. If I win..." he trailed off.

Ryohei was instantly distracted by Ryuichi worrying his bottom lip in deep thought. He blinked to try to clear his head and come up with something good. Something that _didn't_ involve the one corner of Ryuichi's mouth that was curling up into a devious smirk. That mouth was going to be the death of him, he thought, and blinked again when Ryuichi spoke, the smugness radiating off him almost making Ryohei change his mind. The pure stubbornness Ryuichi was capable of when he really wanted something was unparalleled, but Ryohei had a Plan. At least, the beginnings of one. If only he could think of a bet.

"If I win, next time we do a photoshoot, _you're_ the one that has to wear the tight pants." Ryuichi giggled, teetering on the edge of the table. "Underwear optional."

Okay, now he _really_ had to think of something. There was no way in hell he'd wear the kind of clothes Ryuichi seemed to keep ending up in as of late. Not that he minded seeing the other in pants that practically had to be peeled off... and he was getting distracted again.

_Dammit, Chiba, think!_

"And _when_ I win... you have to..." Ryohei dragged the last syllable out, amused at the impatient look his friend was giving him.

"Oh come on, what is it?!"

Bending foward and placing his palms flat on the table to the sides of Ryuichi's hips, Ryohei whispered to Ryuichi, warm breath ghosting over the shell of his ear making the younger boy shiver then blush at what he was saying. Ryohei smirked, bringing his forehead to rest against Ryuichi's, looking into his eyes.

"Deal?"

Ryuichi gulped. "Deal."

_Step one: disorient. Check._

Finally Ryuichi's legs had stopped swinging, Ryohei noticed, also noting the determined set to his jaw.

_Step two: distract._

He slowly closed the distance between them, hands sliding inward as he pressed his lips to Ryuichi's, feeling him relax under the familiar closeness, resistance slipping away more and more with the deeper he kissed, fingers sneaking under the hem of the evil shirt to trace up his side eliciting a gasp.

_Check._

Knowing Ryuichi wasn't quite that easy to overcome, he decided to implement the final part of the plan.

_Step three: attack._

Being friends with Ryuichi for years had its advantages sometimes. For instance, knowing exactly where to poke to make him squirm uncontrollably, a tactic that worked as long as he didn't completely forget what he was doing in favor of feeling those lips against his own. Like he was doing now.

_Step three, remember?_

Ryohei slowly carressed further upwards, then suddenly began poking incessantly at a spot halfway up Ryuichi's ribcage, his other hand holding Ryuichi in place at the base of his spine.

"mmmMPHGYAH!!!! HEEELP....STOPITSTOPIT!"

A stream of obscenities and muffled noises streamed from Ryuichi's mouth as he tried to get away and sit still at the same time. The need for self preservation finally won out.

As suddenly as he started, Ryohei stopped poking Ryuichi upon finding himself flipped over and laid back over the table, an extrememly flushed and ruffled Ryuichi looking down at him.

"Cheater."

_Check._

"I win."

Ryuichi glared.

Ryohei smiled innocently.

"So... when do I get to collect?"

**Author's Note:**

> also @ [lj](http://users.livejournal.com/_tabris/4850.html) | [dw](http://cheri.dreamwidth.org/1169.html)  
> 


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